Goodbye to His Hero
by countrybutterfly
Summary: Oliver is surprised when he's asked to speak at his father's funeral.One-shot.


Oliver put the rental car in park and stared out at the large stone building located on the outside of Des Moines city limits. Leaning back he sighed and adjusted his tie with his left hand while his other hand was suddenly occupied.

"Oliver?" Kyle turned towards him in the passenger seat, "Are you sure…" He swallowed cautious with his next statement, "Are you sure you want me here, I know your mother said she didn't want…"

"No, no Kyle, I need you."

"But its your…" Kyle protested.

"Yeah Kyle, it's my father's funeral." Even with a few days for the news to settle it was still hard for Oliver to believe. "And I need you both, okay?" He leaned across and kissed Kyle softly.

As the kiss ended quickly, Kyle nodded and the pair got out of the car. Kyle pulled the sleeping two year old out of the car seat without waking her, leaving Oliver to grab the diaper bag. Slowly they made their way towards the front of the building where there was already a trickle of people in black heading. No one had noticed the couple and Oliver was grateful for the few seconds of invisibility. Kyle's arm reach out to rub the blonde's back as Oliver took a few deep breaths. He hadn't been to this place in years, since freshmen year of college. He had found every excuse to stay in Llanview, and he was beginning to remember why. Taking a quick glance around he wasn't surprised that not much had changed. Even the school attached to the church, where Oliver had attended all of his pre-college education was still standing there, the child-colored crosses hanging in the windows.

A small wave of paranoia began to set in when the family of three turned the corner. Kyle removed his hand and Oliver knew he too had noticed the people looking, only able to imagine what they were saying in their heads. A young woman spotted them and made her way over to them. A few seconds passed before he recognized her as his cousin, a few years younger than him, who had been the one to call him with the news.

"Oliver," She hugged him tightly, "I'm sorry, he was a good man." There was sympathetic smile and she noticed the baby. "Is…" She looked to him.

"Oh, sorry." Oliver stepped closer to Kyle, "Camille, this is…this is Kyle, and our daughter Sierra." He cleared his throat slightly trying not revert to any nervous habits.

The introduction to Kyle was ignored awkwardly, but Oliver wanted to believe it was due to the woman's fascination by the child.

"She's beautiful, Oliver." She reached out and softly touched the toddler's back, allowing a few moments of quiet pass by. "Oliver," She sighed, "I'm glad you were able to make it."

"Thank you for calling me…My mom…"

"Wanted to call you." She interrupted, "It was my dad who told her not to. He was upset when he found out I told you, but she was grateful…She's holding up, but you know better than anyone how she is…how they were."

Oliver nodded. His mother was tough, but she had been equally dependent on his father. He didn't blame her, both of his parents had been extremely traditional and a lot of that was how they were raised. There wasn't anytime for Oliver to process this as Camille was pulled a few steps back by her elbow by an older man whose gray hair was pretty thin on top, and the suit his was wearing showed signs of being at least a decade old.

"Oliver." It was in same curt voice his father had used the last time they had spoke. Hands on him hips there was a remarkable resemblance between Edward Fish and his late younger brother. "I know your mother asked you to say a few words. I just don't think its appropriate for you to be here, and Father Bryan agrees. It's would be best to avoid a scene."

Neither Camille or Oliver seemed too surprised at his directness, however Kyle was feeling enough indignation at the man's audacity for the three of them and a small crowd instantly causing the doctor to open his mouth, but Oliver cut him off by placing a hand on Kyle's arm. The brief contact made the older man flinch and his reaction was noticed by his nephew.

"Kyle, why don't you make sure I put everything in the bag, just in case she wakes up." He handed over the diaper bag, and Kyle gave him a look that clearly told Oliver he didn't like this suggestion, but that he understood. Camille also took the clue and offered to point Kyle towards the church's family restroom.

Oliver study the older man for a moment and steady himself, fighting to keeps his nerve. Growing up it had been drilled into Oliver's head to respect adults, respect the law, and respect the church. He spent Christmas dinners and family gatherings listening to Edward and George Fish laments the destruction of the country at the hands of liberals, homosexuals, and any other group they deemed as sinners and the only response he had ever been allowed was to agree or keep his mouth shut. But if anything being with Kyle had taught him was that standing up for himself.

"Uncle Edward," A unfamiliar sternness crept into Oliver's voice, "I think not allowing your brother's son to attend his father's funeral will cause a bigger scene. I know how he felt and I know how you feel, but today isn't about how I live my life, its about him." His voice softened, "That's how I want to keep it, I'm not going to make it about this disagreement, I promise." He swallowed, " My mother asked me to speak so that's what I'm going to do. And I need to go see her right now." He lowered his head slightly, not being entirely rid of eighteen years of the same discipline. He made his ways quickly up the stairs and through the wooden doors, spotting his mother and Kyle at the same time. He could also see his mother had also spotted his partner. Making his way to her, he was able to distract her.

"Mom." He pulled her into a hg, and he was caught off guard by how tightly she held on.

"Oh, Oliver." She whispered the two words softly, "You came."

"Of course." He breathed out as they pulled out of the hug. In the two and half years since he had seen her age had seemed to have taken a beating on her. Her face showed it, outline by a significant showing of gray hair that had been previously unnoticeable. Her eyes seemed to be evaluating him like he had been assessing her, but it didn't take long before her eyes traveled behind him.

He knew what she was about to say so he cut her off, "Mom, I know what you asked, but I need him to be here for me, so that I could be here for you." Kyle cautiously approached with Sierra, who was beginning to wake up. Before the little girl could be introduced to her grandmother, the priest appeared with enough grace to now comment on Oliver or Kyle's presence, though his comment that it was time for the family to take their seats was solely directed at Barbara. She nodded and made her way in to the front row, with Oliver and Kyle a few steps behind.

"Babe, you okay?" Kyle asked quietly. Oliver nodded, "Yeah, you?" But he was only greeted with a signature Kyle Lewis smile. Both men suddenly became aware of the church and the enlarged picture of George Fish in the formal police uniform and an expression that Kyle Lewis had never seen on the man, and Oliver hadn't seen since he had graduated from the academy. The pair was silenced by their own thoughts as they arrived a few feet from the frame where Edward Fish had pulled Camille and her husband to the front room so there was only room for Oliver, not making scene anyone else in a church would notice but clearly sending a message to his nephew that he did not particularly appreciate Oliver's defiance. Kyle took it with stride sitting directly behind Oliver, focusing on Sierra instead of the tension. Oliver, for his part focused on the paper in his pocket, the eulogy for his father. He had no clue why his mother had asked him to speak. He had spent the entire plane ride and subsequent car ride trying to figure it out, not that he wasn't grateful on some level for the opportunity. There were plenty of things he wanted to say to his father, to call his father out on, but he remembered what he had told his uncle, and knew that he had meant it.

As the service started he tried to split his focus between his mother and what he was going to say, but it didn't take long before he was staring at the picture of his father. That smile had been like a prize to the Oliver Fish who had grown up in constant fear of George Fish's look of disappointment and shame.

"_Oliver Nathaniel Fish, you're a man, now act like it…" _

"_Good game, son, but you would have done better if…"_

"_I did not raise you to be stupid."_

"_I talked your teachers, son, they said you're doing well."_

"_You want to be a police officer? We'll see if you're up to it. Need to toughen up a bit."_

"_I'm proud of you, you."_

"_I'll pray for you."_

Oliver shook the collection of memories out of his head as the priest reluctantly nodded in his direction and he realized that it was his turn. He could hear the trace of whispers through the packed church, but he didn't look up until he reached the microphone. Instead of dwelling on it, his eyes found his mother then Kyle, locking on as he took a deep breath, abandoning the paper that still sat in the pocket of his suit jacket.

A strained smile escaped as he began. "I won't pretend my father and I had the perfect relationship, like any other father and son we had our rough patches and our disagreements." There was a flustered movement from his uncle, but the older man remained seated. "But growing up he was my hero, he was a lot of people's hero and for a good reason: he was a decorated police officer, volunteer, active member of his church. He was a good man: I know that gets said at every funeral, but George Fish was. He was the kind of man I always wanted to be, he is the reason I'm a cop today. I remember there were a couple times when I was a kid Mom would got to bed early, and Dad would pop in a old home video or pull out these articles or pictures and tell me everything about being a cop, like I said he was my hero." Oliver looked down quickly swallowing, as the thought came to his head, "In…In some ways he will always be, and that's how he deserves to be remembered."

He stepped away from the microphone and took his seat back beside his mom. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand, and he couldn't help but allow a few tears to stream down his face. The priest began to speak again and the rest of the service once again became a blur. Even in the cemetery Oliver could barely focused, questions, one in particular played on a loop in his head

It wasn't until, at the invitation of his mother, he walked back into his childhood home. Barbara pointed Kyle in the direction he could take their bags, then turned her attention towards her granddaughter who she was bouncing on her hip.

"Mom?"

She turned in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Why did you ask me to speak today?"

"It wasn't me. It was your father, it was in his last wishes."

Oliver eyes slowly bulged in shock, "But if he wrote that before…"

"That's what your uncle said, but I talked to the lawyer and he said that Geor--your father, right after you told that….about….well, he had you taken out of his part of the will."

Somehow this news didn't shock him he just nodded and she continued, "But not long after he had been diagnosed, he changed it back and it wasn't until that he asked that you be the one to speak for him today."

Sierra interrupted squirming causing the older woman to smile, "I think we're going to have a couple of cookies the ladies brought over. Do you want any?"

Oliver shook his head, "No, I'll be back in a second…I've got to do something real quick."

She nodded and the pair disappeared and the sudden clearing of the throat announced Kyle's presence at the top of the stairs. Oliver looked up, "Will you be okay here for a little be?"

"Yeah," Kyle came down the stairs, "I know its not the best circumstance, but I think your mom and I may be bonding."

Oliver smiled, he had been right in bringing Kyle, "I wouldn't hold your breath."

"I know, but I can dream right? Go do what you need to do." Kyle left him with a kiss and Oliver made his way out the front door, back into the rental car. He passed drove passed the stone church, the school, the number of look-a-like suburban houses until he arrived back at the cemetery. Even in suit he sat down in front of the fresh mound of dirt.

He looked down as he rested his elbows on his bended, outstretched legs. "You know when I first tried to write what I was going to say, I wanted tell you off. Write everything I though was wrong with you, but that wouldn't have been right; you taught me better. I meant what I did say though." He paused for a moment, biting his lip and subconsciously rubbing his hands together, "But there so much I wish we could of talked about, I was just so scared. You were bigger than life. I know, you're only human, trust me" he rolled is eyes, "I get that now, and I know talking to a piece…talking now isn't going to change much. I just wanted to thank you for today…and I know you loved me, and you just wanted what you though was best for me. Sierra's helped me see that,….that everything I know about being a father, the good, the things I'm going to do differently…I learned from you. So, thank you."

He sat in the grass for a few more moments before hoisting himself back up and looked down at the inscription one last time: _George Oliver Fish: 1941-2012 Hero. Husband. Father. Grandfather. _Simple words.

"Good-bye, dad."

* * *

Just another one of my one-shots, I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think

I don't own One Life to Live.


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